2D. CATARACT OF THE NILE.

Published by Longman, Rees & Co. April 6th. 1835.

Numerous names of travellers are engraved on the calcareous rock; this place being, as I have said, almost always the limit of their voyage. Some few make an excursion into the Batn el Hadjar; but fatigued with the first two or three days’ journey on camels, they seldom proceed beyond Semneh, and still more rarely, if ever, extend their journey to Solib, one of the most magnificent ruins in the valley of the Nile. The extreme heat of these climates, particularly during this season, is certainly trying to European constitutions. As far as the second cataract, travellers visit the antiquities, comparatively speaking, without any fatigue; in their boats they suffer little from the heat, and they have seldom any distance to walk, as all the ruins are on the banks. I, however, strongly recommend those who are really fond of antiquities, and are possessed of a good constitution, to complete their tour of the Nile. Travellers visit with great fatigue the sites of Sparta, Troy, and even Carthage, where there are no monuments to recompense the toil. It is true that the recollections recalled by such scenes must amply indemnify us; but in the Island of Meroe we have splendid and most interesting works of art, an infinity of sepulchres, which, from their number and extremely elegant architecture, could only have belonged to the metropolis of that ancient kingdom: and what more thrilling, exciting association could the traveller desire, than the circumstance that in that region the arts had their origin?

The antiquities of the Island of Meroe, as will have been seen, are not the only remains to indemnify the traveller for his fatigues. The interesting site of Gibel el Birkel, with its extensive, picturesque, and curious monuments; the pyramids of Nouri, the colossal statues of Argo, and the temples of Solib and Semneh, are all interesting in the extreme; and, besides the antiquities, the traveller cannot but be interested in the manners and customs of a people who have not yet adopted those of their conquerors. A knowledge of the desert life, and the different tribes of Arabs, is only to be acquired by a journey of this description through their different districts.

Some of the views of the desert are, to those unaccustomed to them, somewhat appalling,—boundless oceans of sand; rocks affording little or no shade to the traveller, and covered, sometimes, with hills of light sand, which appear to want only a storm to put them in motion; and it is a dreadful sight to see the road strewed with the bodies of men and animals, victims of the scorching clime and great fatigue.

Often, when the wind has covered with sand the traces of former caravans, we have no other beacon than the small piles of stones which the Arabs occasionally erect on the eminences; but an almost infallible guide to our steps is afforded by the bones which lie bleaching on the road. Yet this is the dark side of the picture: the desert life has its charms, which are only enhanced by these dangers. We are there independent, perfectly free from the restraints of the world, and those passions which agitate man in society.

All feel a pleasure in gazing on the ocean, and (when well) in sailing on its bosom; but the desert life is still more delightful. I feel it difficult to analyse this sentiment, and yet I strongly feel it. At sea we are mere passengers; we take no share in avoiding the dangers which threaten us; our powers are not called into action; we feel a certain excitement, but, of course, less than the captain and sailors, on whom all depends: and is not this a reason why the latter are so attached to that kind of life, notwithstanding the numerous and severe hardships which they have to undergo?

The traveller in the desert is, to a certain degree, similarly situated. As head of the caravan, its safety depends mainly on the prudential measures which he adopts. Appointing a guard in case of danger, encamping in a judicious situation in case of a storm, attention to secure a supply of water, and to prevent the Arabs from consuming, as they would willingly do, two days’ portion in one day, are cares which keep his mind constantly occupied. A judicious choice of camels, drivers, and servants; a just distribution of their labour, and attention to their maintenance, lessen the chance of being detained by illness.

Well supplied with rice, good biscuit, and meat, the traveller may live tolerably well, even in the deserts. Since I left Thebes, four months and a half ago, I have passed two deserts of eight days each, and many small ones, and generally been in a miserable country, yet I have only been one day without fresh meat, and that by accident. To court privations is as great folly as to fear them when they arrive, and not submit to them cheerfully when requisite. I am certain that wine and spirituous liquors are injurious in this climate. During the whole of this journey water has been my only beverage; and, on the whole, I have enjoyed very tolerable health, considering the excessive heat, and the many annoyances and delays, still more injurious in this climate than the fatiguing pace of the camel. The desert life has also another charm; it is gratifying to see how, when treated as men, the Arabs become attached to you. If they have any quarrel between each other, a word from the traveller makes them silent.

At sea, it is a pleasure to observe the colour and motion of the waters; to see the dolphins playing at the ship’s head; and sometimes, as in the Mediterranean, the surface of the waters animated by their singular forms. The Nile has its crocodiles and hippopotami; every desert also presents something new,—lions, panthers, hyenas, wolves, serpents, gazelles, antelopes, giraffes, ostriches, guinea-fowls, wild asses, zebras, &c. The traveller may have seen all these in menageries in Europe; it is, however, a great pleasure to see or hear them in their native haunts. The deserts have also a great charm for the traveller who has any taste for mineralogy, then each rock, each pebble, each step, I may say, is interesting. During a sea voyage, we read, and scarcely look at the water once a day: in the deserts, on the contrary, our attention is continually occupied by the transition of rocks, their formation, the minerals which are disseminated on, and mixed with, the sand.